Walking into my apartment, I glance at the window and let out a sigh when I see another bouquet of flowers.
My freaking place looks like a flower store!
Yanking my phone out of my handbag, I press dial on Mr. Vitaleâs number.
Not even a second passes when he answers, âWhatâs wrong?â
âI canât move around in my apartment,â I complain. âStop with the flowers, Mr. Vitale.â
I glance around at all the colorful arrangements and shake my head.
It looks like a unicorn puked everywhere.
âIâll stop on one condition,â he murmurs.
âIâm not ready to talk about us,â I warn him.
Itâs been over two weeks, and I still canât bring myself to make a decision. One moment, Iâm willing to give things a try between us, and the next, I shut it down because Mr. Vitale is, and always will be, a mafia boss.
âI want you to call me Franco,â he murmurs.
âOh.â I narrow my eyes. âIs that it? Will you stop leaving flowers at my window?â
âYes.â
âFine,â I sigh as I drop my handbag on the couch and walk to the window to retrieve the latest peace offering.
âSo you didnât throw any of the flowers I left for you in the trash?â he asks.
âOf course not. They didnât do anything wrong.â
He chuckles, and the sound has my heart beating faster.
Iâve barely seen him because heâs staying away from the companies until heâs dealt with whoever attacked us.
Thatâs another reason why Iâm hesitant to give things a chance between us.
âHow did things go at the office today?â he asks.
âGood.â I tuck the device between my ear and shoulder and lift the arrangement into my apartment. Shutting the window, I say, âIâm not talking with you about work. Thatâs what office hours are for.â
âFair enough.â His tone is laced with amusement. âWhat would you like to talk about?â
âNothing. I just called to tell you to stop with the flowers. Iâm hanging up.â
Before I can end the call, he admits, âI miss you.â
I press my lips together so I donât say the words back to him and make a non-committal sound.
âCan I come up?â
A frown appears on my forehead. âYouâre here?â
âYes. I dropped the flowers off a couple of minutes ago.â
I shake my head. âI donât think thatâs a good idea.â
âPlease.â
I glance at the window, and seeing Franco standing there, I startle.
âYouâre sneaky,â I whisper into the phone.
âAll is fair in love and war.â
I move closer to the window and lock eyes with him through the glass.
We stare at each other for close to a minute while I try to sort through my feelings about him being here.
Giving in, I end the call and unlock the window.
Franco pushes it open, and I watch as he climbs inside. When he straightens to his full height, he tucks his phone into his pocket.
This is the first time heâs come through the window wearing a suit and not his uniform from Paradiso, and it makes everything more real.
It merges my mystery man with my boss, and my confused mind gets a little more clarity.
My heart, on the other hand, starts to beat faster and faster until itâs a mere fluttering in my chest.
When I started working at Vitale Health, I had a crush on Mr. Vitale.
Just like every other woman in the building.
Of course, it died a quick death when I became his PA, but now itâs back. Add to that my love for my mystery man, and I feel a little overwhelmed.
I move to one of the couches and sit down. Staring at the coffee table, I try to shove my feelings down because I need to be sensible about the situation.
Franco takes a seat next to me, and he places his hand palm up on his thigh.
My eyebrows draw together as I lay my hand in his.
His fingers weave with mine, then he says, âChrist, I missed you.â
I missed you too.
Lifting my hand to his mouth, he presses a kiss to my skin.
My heart wars with my mind, and I feel a little lost.
âWant to talk about it?â he asks.
Closing my eyes, I lean against his shoulder. I smell his aftershave and feel how solid he is beside me.
âEven if I can look past you deceiving me, it wonât matter, because youâre one of the heads of the Cosa Nostra.â I suck in a deep breath and let it out slowly before I continue, âAt the end of the day, youâre a criminal.â
He takes a deep breath and tightens his hold on my hand before he mentions, âHonestly, the Cosa Nostra does a hell of a lot for the city. We provide jobs to thousands. We keep the gangs in check. We keep drugs off the streets. Itâs one of the reasons the police look the other way. We do half their job for them.â
I didnât know that.
âWe donât shit where we eat, Samantha.â
I stare at his hand as I ask the most crucial question, âHow many people have you killed?â
Heâs quiet for a moment before he answers, âI donât keep count.â He lets out a sigh, then adds, âBut I can promise you, Iâve never killed an innocent person.â
I pull my hand free from his, and leaning forward, I rest my elbows on my knees and rub my hands over my face.
My voice is filled with confusion as I say, âI know you want an answer from me, but I canât give you one. Not right now.â
âI understand, but while you think about things, can I at least see you?â He places his hand on my back, and the touch feels comforting. âSince Iâm working from home, so the company doesnât become a target, I barely get to spend time with you.â
True.
Maybe thatâs part of the problem. Iâm still stuck in the past where Franco and my mystery man are two different people. Iâm not getting to know him any better.
Nodding, I turn my body to face Franco and lean my shoulder against the back of the couch.
The corner of his mouth lifts, and seeing him smile makes butterflies erupt in my stomach.
âYou should smile more,â I mention.
âIâll make a conscious effort for you.â
Sitting in my apartment and having a normal conversation with him makes him feel less like my boss.
Francoâs eyes drift over my face, and I see his affection for me shining from them.
He looks at me as if Iâm precious to him.
âWhat are you thinking about?â he asks.
My tongue darts out, and I wet my lips. âHow different you are away from the office.â
He lifts his hand to my face and trails his fingers along the curve of my jaw. âRemember when I said our appointments were helping me as well?â After I nod, he continues, âYou made me realize how cold and empty my life is. Youâve added warmth and light to my life, and I donât want to lose it.â
His words warm my heart, and when his hand wraps around the back of my neck, I donât stop him as he pulls me closer.
His other hand takes hold of mine, pressing my palm to his chest. I feel his heart beating, and it makes me remember what he said before he allowed me to see his face.
âEvery beat is for you.â
He lowers his head, and as his mouth brushes against mine, the intense connection we have threatens to overwhelm me completely.
Before he can deepen the kiss, I pull back and whisper, âWe need to take things slow until Iâve come to a decision.â
Franco nods and stares at me as if heâs trying to memorize my face. After a few seconds, he presses a kiss to my forehead, then pulls away from me and climbs to his feet.
I stand up as well, and as he walks to the window, I say, âYou know you can use the front door, right?â
He lets out a chuckle. âIâll use the window for old timesâ sake.â
I watch as he climbs onto the fire escape, and when he disappears from my sight, I take a deep breath.
That went better than I expected.
Maybe thereâs still hope for us.